A circle is the shape of an apple pie, Hot from the oven with a scent of cinnamon, my oh my! Mother cut the apples with love and pride, I stood by and watched at her side. How many young ones remember the day, When Mother put the fragrant circle into the oven while we about the kitchen did play? Now the circle comes from the grocery store, No little ones watching Mother bake, no not anymore. It's a little sad, don't you think? That most Mothers of this day don't bake or stand at the kitchen sink. © Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@msn.net) ~INDEX PAGE~